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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24604219">Take a Lap</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weav/pseuds/Weav'>Weav</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Loud House (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Gen, Movie Night, No Dialogue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:29:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24604219</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weav/pseuds/Weav</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A late night movie marathon gives Stella something to sink her...hand in</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Take a Lap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was movie night in the Loud house, but only six occupants make up the living room, huddled together either on the couch or in front of the TV—only one Loud is among the pack, though. One sibling meeting and a round of drawing straws had given Lincoln free reign of movie night, meaning that Clyde, Liam, Stella, Rusty, and Liam were invited to check out Rusty's collection of black and white werewolf movie classics.</p><p>Out of the respect to Virginia, none of the snacks that the gang had brought over were pork-based, but that didn't stop everyone from eating like pigs.</p><p>Well, almost everyone.</p><p>Stella had enough restraint to only get through about a quarter of a bowl of popcorn that she had to her right as she watched the cheesy acting and bad effects play out from the comfort of the couch. To her left was Lincoln, who looked like he was ready to get turned out like a light at any second, if the light swaying and drooping eyelids were any indication.</p><p>It was on movie four where things finally got quiet, light snoring replacing what was once intermittent theories from Zack about werewolves or boasts from Liam about how he would wrangle any werewolf in his sleep or Rusty teasing Clyde's bursts of cowardice.</p><p>Stella had to look around the room and smile smugly, knowing that she'd have bragging rights about lasting through the marathon longer than everyone else, partially do to not getting sleepy from engorging herself on chips and soda.</p><p>The grin ended when something suddenly plopped on her lap, and she bit back a yelp as she immediately tensed, heart racing. Once the adrenaline started to ebb, her first thought was that it was probably the family cat that had been snooping around in the dark and made its presence known with a demand for pets and belly rubs from the only person who was awake.</p><p>And who was she to deny the whims of a cute little kitty cat?</p><p>Stella looked down, arm stretched out and ready to pet...and she froze. The flickering blue hue from the TV wasn't the only thing to light up her face—a faint blush colored her cheeks as she realized that what was sprawled out on her lap wasn't a feline but a <em>friend.</em></p><p>Lincoln, in a state of heavy dozing, had his head rested on her thighs, his sleeping face in her direction. Now, she was tense all over again, the faux pas affording her little comfort in the fact that one of her boy fri-<em>companions</em> had managed to make his way in her lap with four potential witnesses (fourteen if one counted his sisters, who were mercifully uninterested in indulging them) to call them out on it and make the situation even more embarrassing.</p><p>...</p><p>But much like two minutes ago, the five boys were snoozing up a storm, blissfully unaware of the storm of butterflies taking up residence in Stella's gut. She <em>still</em> hadn't retracted her hand back, and the more seconds passed, the more...engrossed she seemed to be—not of her predicament, but how she slowly but surely saw this as less of a predicament than she cared to admit.</p><p>Were friends supposed to find each other cute? Stella was sure they weren't but Lincoln's chubby, freckled cheeks offered her no room to escape the consideration, and his perky nose didn't make things easier.</p><p>It was the sleeping face. That <em>had</em> to be it, right?</p><p>The pink on her face blazed as she realized, without thinking, that she was slowly inching her hand towards his head, namely the strands of white hair that she had always found fascinating. The little tuft reminded her of a rabbit, and she had caught herself thinking if it, like the rest of his hair, was as soft as one.</p><p>And despite the line between friendship and...other territory that she had firmly drew in the sand after getting to know the boys, despite risking Lincoln waking up and rightfully freaking out over her actions (a thought that made her heart tremble), despite a small corner of her common sense telling her to back off and get out of dodge as quickly as she could...</p><p>Her hand soon found the smooth silkiness of Lincoln's hair. Her tummy suddenly felt warm, much like her face, and what was once a pensive frown was now a gooey smile. The bones in her fingers melted with each light pass of her digits through snowy bangs, and she couldn't keep herself from letting out a little sigh.</p><p>She must've grazed a sensitive spot, just above his ear, for Lincoln's lips twitched, and for a fraction of a second it looked like a smile. It coached her to be a little more daring and before she knew it, her thumb was running along the nape of his neck, the tiniest fraction of hair still meeting her skin.</p><p>Stella was hardly feeling tired before, and with volts of electricity charging her limbs and making her heart flutter, that wasn't about to change.</p><p>His hair tuft, his little cottontail, was in her sights next, and she passed the time by watching as her finger lightly batted it and curled in and out of it, its shape always retained all the while.</p><p>She couldn't say that she minded his little trail of drool soaking into her skirt, not when she was soaking herself in the unexpected but not unwelcome opportunity she was gifted with. Her curiosity was being answered, and she was happy to know that petting Lincoln's head wasn't like letting petting a fluffy bunny at all.</p><p>It was <em>way</em> better.</p>
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